Automatic
by spinadrift
Summary: Reno leaned his elbows on the table and grinned wolfishly. "What do you say we play a game?" Reno/Elena/Rude.
1. Elena: Talk The Talk

**Elena: Talk The Talk**

**--**

**Rating:** R / M, for language and sexual content.  
**Pairing:** Reno/Elena/Rude, and all the shades in between.  
**Warnings:** Sex, swearing, threesomes. Het and yaoi content.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Final Fantasy VII_, or any of the places or characters mentioned in that series and this piece of fanfiction. No profit is being made, I write for free.

**Notes:** This is the first part of a three-part fic, all parts vaguely related in that they each explore the relationship between the three Turks. They all vary in size and content, and each is told from the point of view of one of the three-- Elena first, Rude second, Reno last. Written for, and with the help of, the ever-wonderful Swanwhite.

Part one of three. Reno and Rude take Elena's Turk training into their own hands.

--

Elena feels the pressure building inside her. The low hum of fear is loud in her ears; rough fingers press paths into her back and chest, too gentle for bruises, too firm to shake off. Elena takes an unsteady breath and lets it out again quickly, hands fisting in the dark material of her uniform pants.

She wonders how she got herself roped into this.

--

Reno and Rude had both always known exactly how to push her buttons. Reno would stop at the door of some seedy-looking bar, taking in her sudden folded arms and pursed lips; _I won't be bullied into it this time,_ Elena would think, determined. But they always knew.

"If you're scared, there's no need to be." His voice would be careless, and that smug little smile of his always had made her want to scream. "There's no shame in being a lightweight. We'll go easy on you." The words would hold a challenge; he'd turn to the calmer member of their team, cock his head in her direction. "Won't we, Rude?"

She could never help it-- the anger rose in her, the need to prove herself, and she would wake up the next day with a thumping headache and ketchup stains all over the front of her shirt.

Elena would never find out exactly what had happened the night before, but she always came home safe, uninjured, and sane enough. That was really the best she could hope for.

--

"How many pressure point in a man's body?"

It sometimes took her a minute or more to find the answer Rude was looking for, tucked away in some part of her subconscious, but she always did find it.

"Come on, Elena," Reno taunted her, legs swinging under the table he was currently perched on. "Nobody's going to give you this long in a fight."

Elena knew all the answers. She knew a lot of things she shouldn't have, a lot of things nobody would teach her; probably more than Reno and Rude combined. Unfortunately, Elena had no practical experience, and she had always had trouble remembering the right answers to the right questions.

She was organised in every other aspect-- she spent a lot of time making sure that she had things done to the best of her abilities. But no amount of organising could seem to sort out her memory.

Elena had been surprised, to say the least, when her teammates had offered to help her out.

_How many levels before you master a Fire spell? Where is the Mu's natural habitat? What does this symbol represent on a map? _

They had been doing this for two months now, and though Elena's confidence had improved, her thinking was still sluggish. She felt frustrated, pinned down, like a wildcat in a trap: if she could just struggle hard enough, bite deep enough, she would work her way out.

To her eternal surprise, neither Reno nor Rude stopped tutoring her. Rude would wait in silence for her answers, and Reno would provoke her into giving them. They both had entirely different approaches, but they worked together to press the right buttons.

--

The pressure doesn't lessen, no matter what she tries.

Deep breathing only serves to make her more breathless than ever; trembling fingers clawing at her buttons only makes her hotter. Elena knows she must look stupid-- flushed, out of breath, hair mussed and shirt half-open.

Rude hisses something in her ear, and Elena fans herself with her free hand, the other gripping the corner of the desk with more desperation than she feels is possible.

"Come on, Elena," breathes Reno, and he is close, much too close. "You know this one."

She can feel the calluses on Rude's fingers, even through her shirt. The air is heavy with something, something that buzzes quietly through Elena's senses-- magic, or something like it. "I don't know," she says, and frowns. "How do you… I don't--"

Reno kisses the base of her throat, and she doesn't bother to finish her sentence. They both know that she cannot possibly talk freely in such circumstances: the deep flush on her cheekbones is enough to tell them that. They're barely touching her, and Elena already feels drunk, helpless.

The blush deepens, anger adding another flare of colour. "You can't expect me to answer that," she says finally, with as much dignity as she can muster.

Reno looks up at her and she almost expects a response; but then he dips his head and closes his mouth around her breast, tongue wetting the fabric of her shirt, and Elena releases her breath in a slow sigh. He does, she realises. Rude's hand slips around her waist, protectively, and the touch burns deep. They both do.

"Three." Elena voice wavers, and she presses her eyes closed for a moment. Reno leans back to look at her and smiles, though it is impossible to decide what sort of smile it is.

Rude whispers something else in her ear, and Elena realises that he has corrected her answer. She turns her head to look at him, eyes opening, frustrated.

This is another gap in her knowledge, then.

Her thought process is completely derailed, and so Elena switches track. She leans in and kisses him, the touch gentle, until she bites down suddenly on his lower lip. It is barely enough to bruise, but Rude pulls back, sucking in a quick breath with a hiss. Reno watches, grinning.

A wicked idea strikes her then, and Elena turns so that she is facing the other male Turk. Her grin mirrors his: Reno watches her with interest, his eyes following her movements. She pushes herself off the desk, both hands pressing against the scratchy wood behind her.

"Hmm?" Reno sounds confident, as though he knows all that Elena is capable of and isn't intimidated in the least. Her grin widens. Slowly, she takes a step forward, hands wrapping themselves protectively around her sides; Reno pulls her into his arms, still watching her with a smirk.

The arrogance in his expression vanishes as he feels the bite of cold metal at his ribs, the hammer of her gun loud in the sudden quiet. Rude laughs from behind her, the sound rumbling in his chest-- Elena cocks one eyebrow and asks, "Does this work for you?"

When the surprise has worn off, Reno's lips quirk into a grin again. "Sure," he answers, and there is no nervousness in his voice. "Though Rude seems to be the guy with all the answers."

Elena puts her gun away, the heat still in her cheeks. "Good. Because now I have some questions for you both."

The words hold a challenge, and Elena is pleased to find that she knows exactly which buttons to press, too.

--

--


	2. Rude: Square One

**Rude: Square One**

**-- **

**Rating:** R / M, for violence, language and sexual content.  
**Pairing:** Reno/Elena/Rude, and all the shades in between.  
**Warnings:** Violence, sex, swearing, a hell of a lot of drunkenness, threesomes. Het and yaoi content.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Final Fantasy VII_, or any of the places or characters mentioned in that series and this piece of fanfiction. No profit is being made, I write for free.

**Notes:** Written for, and with the help of, the ever-wonderful Swanwhite.

Part two of three. Reno, Rude and Elena decide to play a game.

--

Friday nights had long since become a routine drinking night for the three Turks free enough to attend. Tseng usually worked late in his office, checking out reports with his red pen and a scowl set on his face; sometimes he would call Reno's cell to complain about the illegibility of his handwriting, and Reno would laugh and promptly hang up the phone, already in trouble for Saturday before Friday had even finished-- but for the most part, their Friday nights were spent in the same bar up on the Plate, uninterrupted.

It was not in Rude's nature to question _why_ they had proclaimed Friday their Let's Get Shitfaced night: they all did, and nobody complained, so what was there to question? The bar was always a dive, and Elena would usually cause criminal damage at some point in the night, but the booze was always good and their influence in the city meant they didn't get interrupted without good reason.

"I just don't see why you don't ask him," Elena complained, breaking Rude's train of thought. She curled her fingers slowly around her glass and threw it back in one quick motion. The bitterness of the drink seeped into her voice. "He'd probably say yes."

"Exactly." Reno's voice was less than smooth, and Rude noticed that he was grinning in a very unsteady way. "Who the fuck wants Tseng tagging along? He's probably back at headquarters, running dirty little errands for Rufus anyway." He laughed, the sound loud in the stale quiet of the bar. The three of them had claimed a table away from the other patrons when they had first entered, but it made no difference: every word they said carried to all the lonely businessmen and angry nobodies who slumped, drunk, over the bar.

"That's not funny!" Elena protested, and gave Reno a quick punch in the arm. He raised his eyebrows at her.

"Oh, I get it. Feeling possessive?"

Rude ignored Elena's splutter of protest; he ignored the way that Reno was slopping booze all over the table; and, most importantly, he ignored the fact that somebody's hand was resting very noticeably on his thigh.

Instead, he rolled his eyes skyward and asked, "You really think Tseng would come to a place like this?"

The bar was badly lit, and darker still with his glasses in the way--Rude couldn't quite make out the look on the bartender's face, but he knew for sure that the guy wasn't smiling. Then again, he couldn't really blame him. People normally avoided the places the Turks and SOLDIERs and various other Shinra muscle frequented: Mako in the system meant they usually had stronger stomachs, but fatter paycheques cancelled that advantage right out. It was always a bad idea to be around a less-than-steady paid killer.

"Either way, somebody should ask him," Elena pointed out.

Somebody at a table near the door was shooting the three of them all kinds of murderous looks, and Rude wondered why somebody in a Shinra uniform was so openly hostile to co-workers. Half the drones with suits and briefcases had no idea what it was that the Turks did, anyway; some avoided them all on principle. Or maybe it was just fear of shitting their pants. Whatever the reason, it was all founded on suspicion-- _didn't you know? Some kid was found in a dumpster with his fingers missing and a bullet in his face. I heard it was the Turks._

Not that the truth was much better. But whatever the truth, Rude had never liked being openly stared at by some coward with no tolerance for alcohol and half-formed ideas of superiority.

_Your job may be cleaner, but don't kid yourself it's more desirable._

"Don't you think, Rude?"

He turned to Elena, the liquid brightness of her eyes, and looked away again. "…Can't say I care."

That was the problem working with a rookie: they let the job affect their lives. Rude didn't kid himself-- he knew that from his perspective, the job _was_ his life. And Reno… Rude was never quite sure what his philosophies were. He probably didn't have any. Maybe his whole life was the moral of the story. Who could really tell?

The hand on his thigh moved away, and Rude let out a silent breath.

On his right, Reno leaned his elbows on the table and grinned wolfishly. "What do you say we play a game?" At Elena's look of alarm, he added: "A drinking game. How about this…"

Reno paused, chewing idly on the cheap cocktail umbrella that had come with his drink. When he had ordered it, the bartender had slid the box of them from view with a guarded look, but Reno had made him sell him one. It made him look highly ridiculous, drinking hard liquor while a pink umbrella hung cheerfully from his glass.

"Okay. This is how it goes: working clockwise, we take it in turns to say something we've never done, like 'I never worked in a bar,' or whatever else you want. Depending on how drunk you want to get, it can be true or false." Reno grinned, showing a quick flash of teeth. "If it's somethin' you've done personally, you take a drink. If not, you don't."

After making sure that they both understood the rules ("The best way to learn is to just fucking play."), Reno set three glasses in a row on the table in front of a bottle of spirits.

It didn't exactly seem like a balanced game, Rude decided. He hardly knew all the details of his teammates' personal lives, but he knew what their capabilities were, and just how much life each of them had lived. The drink in that bottle was going to be monopolised, to say the least.

"I'll start," Reno murmured, brushing some hair from his face and extending a hand towards the bottle. "Somethin' easy. Let's see…" He looked thoughtful for a moment, then grinned and laughed, "I've never kissed a woman." He was gazing very pointedly at Elena.

His grin widened as Elena poured herself a glassful and threw it back, the thought of Elena and another woman obviously a pleasing one. Both Rude and Reno followed suit and drank, with Elena suppressing a smirk from her place at the table. She made no comment, choosing instead to drum her fingers idly against the glass.

All things considered, Rude thought, this whole idea was pointless. Of course he would play-- but he had no obligations to play in any certain way. It was his turn now, working clockwise; he would get them all as drunk as possible and then work on getting home intact.

"I've never been drunk."

The look on Reno's face was more expressive than anything he could possibly have said. He sighed, disappointed, and aimed a punch at Rude's chest. "Oh, come _on_. You have to actually _play_, Rude."

Still, they all swallowed some more alcohol. Elena looked at them both, then down at her glass; she leaned back in her seat.

"Hmm." She considered for a minute, the tip of one finger tracing the rim of her glass. Apparently she was having trouble deciding-- something that Rude could sympathise with, given how much they had all had to drink. A few more, and he was sure the night would get drawn to a suitable close.

Decision suddenly made, Elena's eyes snapped to Reno. "Fine. I've never kissed a man," she said, with obvious curiosity, and gave a laugh that rang sweetly out in the bar.

Elena took a drink; Reno took a drink; Rude sat still in his seat, his glass untouched. Elena glanced over at him, apparently unsurprised. The look on Reno's face was unreadable.

He looked away from Rude and back to the bottle, chewing thoughtfully on his bottom lip. "I forgot this game involved actual fucking thought," he muttered, feigning annoyance, though Rude noticed that he still refilled the glasses. "Let's see…"

A clock ticked on the wall, more loudly than seemed natural; all eyes in the room were turned away from them, though Rude noticed that the number of patrons had dwindled visibly since their arrival. The bartender ran a cloth slowly around a glass, then said something to a guy at the bar from the corner of his mouth, too gruff to hear properly. "Come on, Reno," Rude breathed, looking up at the ceiling. How long could it possibly take?

"Okay, I've got it." The grin was back on Reno's face, and he leaned forward as though about to tell them both his deepest, dirtiest secret. If he had, it wouldn't have surprised Rude in the slightest.

"I've never--" he paused for dramatic effect, then leaned back again. "--I've never had a threesome."

The silence around the table seemed a tangible thing. If they had all been sober and thinking clearly, the subject would have been dropped, with some embarrassment on Elena's part and an inappropriate joke on Reno's. Instead, the redhead seemed to be trying to stare his team mates down; Elena returned his gaze, and slowly licked her lips. Whether it was through nervousness or something else entirely, Rude couldn't tell.

He stayed silent, then thought suddenly of the hand on his thigh and groaned inwardly. He should have seen it coming.

"Fuck, _this_ is depressing." Reno's gaze slid from Elena to Rude and back, and he propped one foot up on the table. "I had no idea you were both such prudes."

Elena snorted. "I'm not a prude! Besides, I don't see you drinking."

"Right." Reno nodded. "I say we fix it."

Rather than another inward groan, Rude allowed himself a moment of silent amusement. It was just so ridiculous. The whole situation; that Reno even thought--

"Wha--!" Rude spluttered, suddenly very aware that Elena had just run her tongue along the shell of his ear, and that Reno was watching her with the look of a cat about to pounce. The other Turk reached around Rude and curled his hand around Elena's hip, pulling them both in closer.

Well. Maybe it wasn't as ridiculous as he'd thought.

"Reno," Elena said breathily, blinking slowly. "It'll be a long time before you hear this again, but I agree with you one hundred percent."

They all searched for a comfortable way to sit, and eventually ended up with Rude in the middle, Elena on his left and Reno on his right. It was a unique feeling, Elena's breasts pressing against him on one side while Reno worked on the knot of his tie from the other. And there was no real way to describe how he felt. "Bewildered" seemed close, but didn't quite get across the feeling of panic, or how difficult it suddenly felt to move.

Rude almost wished he could be anywhere else. Almost.

Elena's tongue was hot on his ear, a contrast to the cold metal piercings he had grown so used to. And strangely, almost as though she were following his train of thought, she murmured: "I wonder."

"Wonder what?" Reno asked, tearing his gaze away from Rude's tie to shoot her a questioning look.

Elena tapped one of Rude's piercings thoughtfully, running the tip of her finger along the metal. "Whether he has any more of these."

Reno's laughter was low and quiet, an unexpected sound to Rude's ears. If he had been the easily embarrassed sort, he probably would have been fighting to keep himself composed-- despite the reality of what they were doing, it still seemed somewhat surreal. The words almost seemed enough to drive the haze of booze away.

Really, though, they weren't; Rude still felt as drunk as ever, though this was probably the strangest situation he had been in for a long time, he realised. Satisfied with the newly crumpled state of Rude's tie, Reno had begun simultaneously pulling at the buttons on his shirt and tugging uselessly at his collar.

"Come on, Rude," he breathed, pausing to give Rude a frown. "I thought I told you to play."

Despite himself, Rude felt himself bristle. The challenge in Reno's voice still made him want to prove himself, no matter how often he heard it. Now was no exception.

"How's this," Elena murmured, pulling her own tie loose about her neck, "for team bonding?"

Reno laughed again. "A team building exercise." He grinned. "I like it."

One hand fisting in Rude's shirt, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to the other Turk's, eyes open and watching for a reaction.

Doubtlessly he would regret this in the morning, but for now Rude suddenly felt a surge of common sense: tomorrow's regrets could wait until then.

Elena reached one hand around and blindly fumbled with Rude's buttons as her teammates kissed, occasionally leaning up to nip Rude on the back of the neck. As they broke apart, Reno licked his bottom lip briefly and smirked. "Not bad," he murmured, somewhat breathless. "You're just full of surprises, Rude."

Again, there was that patronising tone in his voice, and Rude couldn't help but feel another flicker of anger. He knew that Reno was probably well aware of what he was thinking, and that he was using his words to full effect; but he couldn't quite keep from rising to the bait. Here he was, being challenged by Reno and Elena.

Rude had never shied from a challenge.

Turning to watch Elena finish with the last of his buttons, Rude caught her wrist with one hand and reached for the zip of her Turk suit pants with the other. The material was scratchy against his fingers as he pulled down the zip; Reno gave a murmur of appreciation from his other side.

Rude's fingers found their way inside Elena's panties, and she let out a tense breath as he pushed one into her. Hair in her face, lips parted, she looked completely out of place in the dingy dirtiness of the bar-- Rude leaned forward and kissed her, slow and steady. She moaned softly against his mouth, and Rude almost shivered.

"Glad to see you participating," Reno whispered into his ear, chest pressing against his back. One of his hands quickly stroked Rude through his pants; then they disappeared as he rummaged in his jacket pocket. His grin curved against the other man's neck. "Told you this game would be fun." Reno's hands returned after a moment, slick and cool as he unbuttoned and unzipped, fingers curling around him.

Rude was suddenly aware of the fact that the three of them were drunk and acting indecently in a very public place. The sharp, quick breaths escaping from Elena's red, wet mouth seemed louder and much more obscene than they had a moment ago.

Then Reno did something inexplicable with his fingers, and he found himself unable to care in the slightest.

"Rude," Elena breathed, bottom lip between her teeth. She bucked up against the palm of his hand, eyes closing. "Oh, I can't--"

Without another word she came, an exhalation of warm breath against Rude's neck as she braced herself against him, hands shaky on his shoulders. He felt himself reaching the same point, Reno's hand quick and clever. "Come on, Rude," he murmured, his lips at Rude's neck. "Fuck, come on."

The feeling of his orgasm was overwhelming when it hit, heat in his belly and spreading out like a wave. Rude moaned, eyes closed, the corner of his sunglasses leaving marks against his cheek from where he was pressed against Elena's chest.

After allowing himself a moment to recover, Rude sorted out his clothing as best he could, uncomfortably aware of the fact that he had just come in his pants in a very public space. "Let's go," Reno told them both when they seemed to have finished straightening themselves out, grinning in a very self-satisfied way and swinging his nightstick over one shoulder. "My place is closest."

It seemed like the longest walk of Rude's life, making his way from the booth to the bar and out into the night again. Reno stayed behind briefly to pay, a rare act of generosity-- Rude suspected that it had more to do with what would be an inevitable desire to get laid.

The door swung open after a moment and Reno emerged, pushing his wallet back into one pocket. "I'll lead the way," he announced, gesturing in the vague direction of north.

"You know, I don't even know where you live," Elena mused out loud, pushing some hair behind her ear. "What about you? Ever seen it?" She turned her gaze to Rude.

"Yeah." Rude shrugged. He had visited Reno's apartment only once, and had vowed never to go back. Briefly, he wondered what the hell kind of state it would be in now. Then he decided that he wasn't ready to know just yet.

A sudden sound from behind made him turn around, ready for an attack even while drunk out of his skull-- his reflexes would be nowhere as near as sharp as usual, of course, but he was still better trained than anybody outside of Shinra's employ.

The sound came again, and Rude shook his head slightly before coming to a standstill. "No bra?" Reno's voice was muffled, and Rude determinedly ignored the mental images of just what was causing that.

"…Can't you save that for later?" he called to the darkness of the street, unwilling to find out just where Elena and Reno had disappeared to. He heard Elena whisper something, then the two of them emerged from the gloom again.

It didn't take long to reach Reno's apartment. It was on the first floor of a small, well-kept, expensive looking building: "Shinra set me up," Reno told them, nightstick swinging by his side. "Said they wanted me living close by."

The three Turks found their way inside and ascended the stairs, stumbling and swearing and generally making a lot of noise. After what seemed like hours, they finally navigated their way to Reno's hallway and his door, much more quietly this time. Reno searched his pockets, and promptly dropped his keys on the floor.

Rude stooped and picked them up, almost certain that if either Reno or Elena were forced to try to open the lock, they would kick the door down instead. He found the right key and, Elena snorting with laughter behind him, attempted to get the door open.

"…It won't go in," he announced after a moment, sure that he had the right key and drunkenly confused as to why it wouldn't fit.

"You know," Reno swung one arm around Rude's shoulder, grinning at him, "that really isn't the sort of thing you should say on a first date."

At the look on Rude's face, Elena bit her lip to hold back her laughter and Reno extricated his arm. "Shit!" he exclaimed, suddenly. "Wrong keys."

He pulled another set out of his pocket and fumbled with the lock; finally, the door swung open, revealing a large living room that seemed to be drowning in junk.

There was a large shape near the window that Rude assumed was a sofa, covered with all sorts of clothing-- a set of pants identical to the ones he currently wore; jackets, ties, socks; Rude was even sure he spotted a printed shirt in there somewhere. "So this is it," Elena said after surveying the room for a moment, eyebrows raised. She was either underwhelmed, or completely overwhelmed; Rude couldn't decide which.

Reno made a beeline for the kitchen, waving his arm as he walked in, in an open invitation inside. Rude closed the door behind himself as Elena stepped over to a broken TV set, the glass of the screen cracked down the centre.

"Have you got anything edible in here?" Elena called to Reno, shooting Rude a helpless look.

Reno laughed. "Shit, of course." From the way he spoke, it sounded as though he had had that thought already and was already eating.

Following as Elena made her way to the kitchen, Rude thought to himself that Reno's place was exactly like it had been the last time he had visited. Messier, maybe. There were takeout boxes in the microwave, a week old newspaper floating around, and bread crumbs littered the counter around the toaster.

Reno was crouching in front of the fridge, but he straightened and moved away when Elena made her way over to him. She kneeled down and sifted through the fridge, her frown deepening as she looked. "Canned peaches?" she asked, turning her head to look at him, before returning to the fridge again. "Olives, mini-pickles, hotdogs…"

"Turning this place into a bomb shelter?" Rude asked, shaking his head.

Reno made no reply, turning and leaving the kitchen instead. Following, Rude noticed him enter the bedroom from the living room, and he called back to Elena: "You eating?"

With that, she appeared at his side. "I'd rather not. Where's Reno?" Rude tossed his head in the direction of the bedroom, one hand reaching up to push his sunglasses further up his nose. He had no real reason to wear them indoors, he guessed. Still, old habits would always die hard.

Following Elena into the bedroom, Rude was surprised to see that this particular room was actually pretty well-kept, despite how dark it was. The bed was clean, the carpet uncluttered, and a small set of shelves filled the space between the bed and the window. The dark curtains were drawn, blocking out the small amount of outside light visible at such an early hour of the morning.

Rude was taken by surprise when Elena turned and grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him back until the back of her knees hit the bed. Briefly, he wondered where Reno was--it was too difficult to see much in the darkness--before he was pulled down on top of the covers.

"Get these fucking things off," Reno murmured, tugging his sunglasses off; Rude could now make out where he was, and noticed with some surprise that he seemed to be sandwiched between his teammates again.

It was a strange feeling, this mix of alcohol and the heat rising in his stomach. Without his sunglasses, Rude could see a little more clearly-- he reached out and caught Reno's pants, working the zip down and pulling them lower. He slid Reno's heat out and into his hand, considering for a moment just how much he would regret this in the morning.

It didn't take long to think it over: Rude decided once again that, booze or no booze, he didn't care much.

Taking Reno slowly into his mouth, Rude held the redhead's hips down against the bed with one hand. "Shit… Rude," he heard him moan, hips rising to meet the warmth of his mouth.

As for Elena, Rude couldn't see what she was doing, but it seemed that she had turned her attention to Reno: he could hear her gasps, soft little noises of wanting that dissipated into the warm air of the room. The faint sounds of her shirt being pulled off seemed almost loud to his ears, and he could just see the outline of her breasts in the darkness.

Rude swirled his tongue, strangely pleased by the breathless sounds the other man was making. One hand stayed on Reno's hips, holding him steady while he coaxed him to orgasm.

"Rude--" Reno breathed, hands fisting in the sheets. Rude slowed, readying himself.

Reno let out a moan, body trembling as he came-- Rude sat up, watching as Reno's breathing steadied and his eyes opened again. Elena had settled herself alongside Reno, long-fingered hands resting on his chest.

Rude lay down next to her, head coming to rest on a pillow. The room seemed suddenly quiet, and Rude wasn't surprised when Reno said:

"I was right." He grinned to himself, gazing up at the ceiling. "It's a damn good job Tseng wasn't invited."

--

The next morning saw an irate Tseng watching the sixty-fifth floor elevator doors, hands clasped behind his back. He had been waiting over an hour for Reno, Elena and Rude to make an appearance at headquarters: he had assignments to hand out, and nobody to take them.

Of course, Tseng wasn't especially surprised that Reno was late-- but even he had a vague sense of professionalism, and usually managed to arrive before I this /I sort of time. But, Reno aside, Rude and Elena had always been punctual. He wondered what had caused that to change now.

As he considered that particular thought, Tseng heard the I ping /I of the elevator, and saw the doors slide open. The three missing Turks strode towards him, all looking like they had had the roughest night of their lives-- each seemed to be missing at least some part of their uniform, whether it was a tie, a sock, or simply a button; Tseng wasn't even sure he could imagine what could cause that amount of creasing.

Elena tucked some of her dishevelled hair behind one ear, eyes on the floor. Tseng stayed silent for a moment, carefully choosing his words, and then asked: "Just what happened to you three?"

It was Reno who answered. He looked from Rude to Elena, then at Tseng, raising both eyebrows. "Team bonding," he said, and grinned.

--

--


End file.
